


Muse

by misomilk



Category: Octopath Traveler (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, hinted leontressa, hinted primyusufa, therdilia, thordilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-28 02:06:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19802506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misomilk/pseuds/misomilk
Summary: Therion frequents Aeber's Cafe and notices a certain writer struggling with her writing.





	1. Main

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nightmoonz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightmoonz/gifts).



> Good day, nightmoonz. Here is my gift for you.  
> I tried to fulfill as much as I could from your prompts for Therion and Cordelia in an AU setting, and simply fell for them. I'm not quite sure if it's the same characterization you have for them, but I hope you enjoy it all the same.
> 
> Merry travels. I hope you enjoy reading. :D

There was someone that caught Therion’s eye.

He didn’t notice her the first time he came into the cafe. It was more of a gradual realizing that the same person sat by the same blue-silled window, the flowers dangling in the wind outside visible even from within, and they matched her perfectly.

Therion came to Aeber’s Cafe every Tuesdays and Thursdays to spend time before his next class started, reading books, or doing homework. Most people tend to go to Bifelgan’s Leaf and Beans, but that place was always full, and reeked of too-much-sugar in coffee to actually smell like a decent coffee shop. (It’s as if the store tried to hide every ounce of coffee in each of their supposed coffee-based drinks.) Besides, his friend Tressa worked part-time there, and he knew he’ll never get any homework done with her either snickering or teasing or generally bothering him, despite her manager’s telling her to focus.

“People don’t go to coffee shops to actually _drink_ coffee, Therion.” Tressa told him the one and only time he went to Bifelgan’s, which was before he ever encountered and got his heart stolen by Aeber’s Cafe. “It’s all for the Gram, you know. They just want the drink to look pretty.”

“And of course, you’d gladly give into that for the money.”

“Exactly~”

Therion didn’t bother to tell her he wasn’t coming back. (He’d see her at the apartment in the evening, anyway.) Primrose had directed him to Aeber’s Cafe later that afternoon, mentioning how it was her club’s scriptwriter’s favorite place. 

“Why?” He asked, curious to what it was that attracted a writer to such a place. The bricked walls, painted with art rather than hanging paintings on them? The lovely golden light ambiance, with antique-ish hanging lamps? The coffee that tasted like actual coffee, granted how lovely and aromatic the scent here was? 

“They have the _best_ apple pie.”

And Therion’s heart was stolen immediately.

***

Therion sat at his usual table, off to the right side of the cafe, one without a window beside the table because he likes his privacy, and had a nearby charging outlet. 

His school materials were scattered on the table, trying to get through his mathematics problem set. His eyes, however, had other intentions. They kept leaning towards the girl by the window, blonde hair in a bob, typing frustratedly onto her laptop. Her cerulean eyes looked sharp, glaring at the computer as her fingers moved at a lithe speed. Therion couldn’t tell how long he stared at her, but it was long enough that once she finally pressed the last key on her keyboard and did a victorious pose, he was there to see it.

He laughed, quite loudly, not noticing that he’d laughed until he heard himself. He immediately put his hand over his mouth, looked back down on his homework so that by the time she looked towards him, curious to what he’d been laughing at, he was already looking away.

But the image of her victorious pose lingered in his mind--cerulean eyes sparkling like sapphire, mouth in an energetic smile, right hand as a fist in the air. He played the image through his mind, over and over like a video of an adorable kitten chasing after a yarn ball. The more the memory played in his mind, the more did he feel warmer, fuzzier within his chest.

***

One time Therion entered the cafe, the girl’s face was buried against her laptop. He tried not to take notice, but it was terribly difficult not to worry.

 _Did she not get enough sleep?_

He felt his chest tighten, a sharp pang stabbing through it. He desperately wanted to shake her awake, just to make sure she was okay. He was just about to, while waiting for his drink, but she suddenly sat upright and ruffled her hair, shouting: “AAARGHGRHGRH!!!!”

The entire cafe dropped everything they were doing to look at her, the strange disturbance.

And she, adorable as she is, realizing that everyone’s eyes were on her, folded into herself and softly said, “Sorry.” trailing off with laugh that hit Therion’s ears as sweetly as Aeber’s Cafe’s famed apple pie.

She quickly left after that, perhaps due to embarrassment. Therion found himself horrified at the possibility she may never come back here, but sighed with heavy relief the next Thursday when he saw her, as always, typing away at her laptop.

***

He wasn’t a stalker, was he?

Therion had started to doubt himself after Primrose and Tressa, over dinner one Wednesday night, had (very openly and aggravatedly discussed) how Very Troublesome it is when males, in general, kept their sticky eyes glued onto girls.

“Like, take a gods-damned photo, jerk!” Primrose slammed the table, her three-beer-bottles-in level of sobriety (rather, lack thereof) making her incapable of holding back her strength. “And I don’t fucking care if men think I’m beautiful. I know I am! Gods, Sealticge should smite them.”

“YEAH!!” Tressa replied, absolutely on sugar-high after four cans of cola. 

“Don’t you agree, Therion?” Primrose glared at him, which meant he had to say yes.

“Yeah.”

“I can’t hear you!”

“Yes, I totally agree.” 

This was what Therion’s life amounted to in the evenings, trying to calm his two roommates down while they tried to eat dinner. Well, on the rare occasions they got upset at their lovers, anyway.

Primrose was a sobbing mess once she finished her calamari, and didn’t dare open another bottle of beer when she’s already had quite a few. She leaned against Therion, asked him to pat her head as she ranted about how her lover wouldn’t even take offense to such treatment.

“Men are foul creatures.” She sighed. Tressa already knocked out in bed, the crash from all the sugar high came rushing down all too sudden.

“You do know _I’m_ a guy, right?”  
  
“Husssh, little Therion. You’re a _good_ guy, I know. Darius pushed you off the swing when we were little and you got all those boo-boos all over, but you forgave him in the end, right?”

“You mean by never speaking to him again?”

“Ssssh, Therion. So nice. My little brother.”

“We’re not related.”

“Sweet, little brother.” Primrose patted his head, making him give up. Although he did smile a little, because there were times he thought of her as a sister all the same. He watched as she swayed an empty bottle back and forth. “You don’t think she’ll leave me for one, do you?”

Therion frowned. He didn’t like how Primrose’s past relationships left her heart battered and broken. He wished he could’ve saved her from a few of those bastards, punched them right in the face. But Primrose had always been strong enough to deal with it on her own. Strong enough to beat even his enemies, like when she made Darius eat sand from the sandbox.

That’s how the two of them have been, since little, tied to the hip. They’ve only ever had each other, then Tressa when they found her, too. The three of them were inseparable.

“I don’t think Yusufa would leave you for anyone. Guy or girl.” He spoke honestly. He’d seen the way Yusufa treated her, stared at her like she shined like the sun, like she was the only thing that mattered in the world. Plus, Yusufa made one of the best blueberry pies in the world, and there was no way a person who can make a great pie (despite not being apple) could be that bad.

Primrose giggled. Though Therion wasn’t sure why. She laughed and flicked his nose, which hurt, but that meant she was feeling better. “And when are _you_ bringing home a girl of your own, huh? Or a guy, of course. I’m not one to judge.”

“I… uh…” And then _she_ popped into his mind, furiously tapping at her computer, gazing out the window while she thinks, sipping on her cup of tea or coffee, he never knew which. Blonde bob like the sun, eyes like sapphire, a smile worth gold.

And then it occurred to him that maybe he _had_ been staring too much, maybe even offended her, one way or another, and the distraught overpowered the feelings he may have realized right then and there if only he stopped to focus.

***

It was difficult to enter Aeber’s Cafe ever since.

Well, how could he, when he felt guilty for freely stealing glances while _she_ wasn’t aware? (But if _she_ wasn’t aware, then maybe _she_ wouldn’t be disgusted? Is it still disgusting if the girl doesn’t notice? Hmm, seems creepier. Yikes. Was he a stalker after all?)

Therion cursed himself the rest of the week. But at least, to Tressa’s delight, Therion went to Bifelgan’s that Thursday, and she spazzed about Leon apologizing for whatever started their fight in the first place. Leon also gave her a pet hamster, which Therion was sure he’ll do his share of feeding and cleaning cages and all. But he didn’t mind. Tressa seemed much happier, and that’s what mattered.

As for the matter of the Girl by the Window, she infiltrated his thoughts even while she wasn’t physically there for him to stare at. And it made him all the more confused about what it all meant. He thought he should ask the girls about it, but in fear of being teased, and feeling like maybe it should be something he unfurled himself, he chose not to.

***

Strange, Cordelia thought. Somehow, she had the feeling that there had always been something purple-ish around her left, but for the past two weeks at Aeber’s Cafe, she hadn’t seen that purple blob at all.

And in the weeks the purple was gone, she wrote no words. Made no progress. Nothing at all.

And she felt her world be torn asunder, day after day.

There was still two months to go until she has to turn in her final draft, yes. But she has to submit the first _complete_ draft the following Wednesday, and there was simply no way she can finish her piece-- _The Prince and the Princess_ \--while her muse was dead. Or at least, not talking to her.

Where had her flow of words gone? Did they fly away in the wind? Or was it the purple-ish blob that helped her focus enough to write?

Taking that as a great idea, she made Heathcote, ever faithful butler as ever, hold a purple vase towards her left when she got home that evening.

It didn’t work.

***

Therion realized the power of music truly was great, especially through earphones, in order to silence the unending chatter of Bifelgan’s Leaf and Beans. He managed to concentrate better on his homeworks, granted there’s no longer anything left to distract him--no girl, no Tressa (she changed her shift for a few weeks, by his request, and how can Tressa say no to bribe?), no endless chatter.

But when certain songs play--those about how one’s heart beats faster around someone, or how one can’t take their mind off of them, or about how it’s _always better when they’re_ _together_ \--songs that appear on his playlist only because Primrose uses his laptop to sync her songs, too. Those songs manage to summon up the image of a frustrated typer, his chest swelling with warmth at the image of her. He smiled, thrown into the rhythm of one such song, and when it ends he mentally slaps himself.

 _Stop being a creep_. 

***

Primrose and Tressa both laughed wholeheartedly. It was Sunday noon, which meant Yusufa was in the kitchen fixing their lunch. Leon would follow soon, after getting some groceries on his way. They all ate Sunday lunch together--Couples Lunch (plus Therion).

Therion sat in his chair, wincing at how the two laughed terribly at his demise. “I don’t get what’s so funny.”

“Funny? Oh, nothing, nothing.” Primrose wiped a tear. “You’re just so pure, oh my gods. Therion, you’re adorable.”

“I don’t see what’s so adorable. I’m a creep, aren’t I!? Say it. Say it straight to my face.” Therion frowned, eyebrows furrowed, crossed his arms and slumped in his chair.

“Well, it _is_ a little creepy, maybe.” Tressa admitted, a few more laughs rolling off her tongue. “Just ask her out. Geez, simple as that! Then, you’ll stop being creepy. Maybe. But with droopy eyes like yours, will you ever _not_ be creepy….? Hmm??”

Therion knew Tressa was just teasing, but he attempted to tackle her anyway and all she did was laugh while he trapped her head in his arms.

“Seriously, though. Therion. Come on. You stopped skipping those love songs. You started relating to them, haven’t ya?” Primrose found out because she saw the play count on his computer, which is what got him in this situation. Embarrassing. “Looks to me you’re quite in love.”

“What?” Therion made a face, like a boy scared of cooties at age five. “No, I’m not. I don’t even know her.”

“Good answer.” Primrose nodded in approval, even putting a thumb up, looking over at Yusufa who gives a thumbs up with her. “Personality over looks.”

Tressa, having escaped Therion’s grip, put her elbows on the table, propping her chin upon their hands, batting her eyes. “But really, is she pretty?”

“Well--”

“I’m not sure what’s going on,” chimed Leon to the rescue, coming into the apartment carrying a bag of desserts in one hand. “But come on, Tressa. Give him a break. Therion looks like he’s about to have a heart attack.”

Tressa giggled. “But his heart _is_ attacked, isn’t it?”

Thank goodness for Leon’s arrival, because Therion was sure he was about to dig his own grave when he thought his answer would be: _Yes, she’s breathtakingly pretty._

***

Cordelia saw a spot of silver first, and then when she looked at his face, she realized he looked rather more familiar than she supposed he would. (But why?) He wore a familiar-purple jacket, warm enough for these cold afternoons. He felt very warm as he caught her from slipping on wet tiles. Some building floorings just aren’t that safe. Rather, she was so stuck in her head she didn’t notice the yellow glaring “Wet Floor” sign.

“Careful,” He said, although his face was as blank as a canvas. Blank like her mind, she laughed to herself.

Oh. Strange. Her mind didn’t feel as blank when poetry started flowing in her mind, gazing into his emerald eyes. She felt her cheeks flush.

“Oh- I’m so sorry. I wasn’t really aware where I was going.”

The other’s blank face seemed to melt into fondness for one moment, then it was gone. “It’s alright. As long as you’re okay.”

That made the inside of her chest puff with a nice-feeling cloud. “Thank you, Mr…?”

The other tilted his head.

“What’s your name?”

He looked agitated for a moment, like battling with his thoughts, and he was ever so interesting to observe. “Therion.”

“Mr. Therion,” She smiled, liked the way the name slipped from her lips. “I’m Cordelia. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He didn’t seem to know what to do, so she took out her hand for him to shake, but instead he bowed to excuse himself, and started to shuffle away. Acting quickly as she could, she lunged at him to catch his arm. Not really sure why herself.

Both looked at each other, surprised, as a moment passes in silence.

“W-would it be possible for you to accompany me later this afternoon?”

***

Therion thumped his head onto his desk repeatedly, earning a _Stop that._ glare from his tablemate, Gareth, who didn’t voice it out because he didn’t want to get involved with Therion. (Gareth knew Darius, who knew Primrose’s wrath all too well. _Never approach him_ , his friend said. And so he obeyed.)

 _Did that really just happen?_ Therion thought to himself. _Was that Cordelia really the girl from Aeber’s Cafe?_

He could never mistake her for anyone else, could he? He’s stared at her frequent enough to really know her face--the thought of which made him wince and hit his head a little harder on the table.

The teacher arrived just then, saving some of Therion’s brain cells from dying. He grumbled below his breath, and opened his book to whatever page Professor Albright mentioned.

He tried and tried and tried so hard not to think about how pretty she looked up close, and how nice she felt in his arms, like she was meant to be there, for him to embrace, and that just made him all the more furious with himself.

She asked for his name _and_ asked him out before he ever could. 

***

“Mr. Therion,” Cordelia waved to him as he entered the cafe, the bell twinkling as the door opened and closed. 

He gave a little wave back, hoping that he didn’t look as uncomfortable as he felt. It’s strange to be back here in Aeber’s after avoiding it for two weeks. He noticed the chair where her stuff normally was cluttered upon had been freed for him to sit. He motioned to it, a silent ‘ _May I sit over here?_ ’ And she nodded, thankfully. Gods, Therion pleaded for strength. He didn’t think he could actually say a word from here forth.

“Would you like to order anything?” She handed him the menu, which made his chest fall. Did she not realize he’s been a regular here more than two weeks prior? Did that mean she never took notice of him before? Then why did she ask him out? “As thanks for coming here on such a sudden request, I insist I must treat you to a drink, or snack. Or both? If it’s what you prefer?”

Therion tried not to squirm, but squirmed a little anyways because he couldn’t stop it. “It’s alright. I can pay for my own drink.”

“Oh, but I must insist!” Cordelia nodded her head, as if having successfully proven a point to Therion. Her face lit up at a sudden suggestion. “Do you like apple pies? They have a very nice apple pie here.”

And with just one, simple comment, Therion’s heart fluttered. He felt his cheeks burn. “I like apple pies, yeah.” And, feeling like it was a stupid, clumsy response, felt the burn rise to his ears.

Cordelia stared at him, smiling, Therion not really knowing why, and he had to look somewhere else just to save himself, even a little bit, from the beam of attention thrown upon him.

***  
  
Little did Therion know that Cordelia had been sculpting prose in her head, the inspiration coming in steadily for as long as he was around, her ideas now much like a cup overflowing.

***

“Mr. Therion,” Cordelia said as she put down her cup of tea.

“Yes?” He tried to answer as blankly as he could, but at this point he was still on edge. He didn’t go for the apple pie this time, ordering only a mocha instead.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I asked you to come here.” She paused, perhaps leaving space for Therion to respond, but he wasn’t in a state to say anything. “Well, you see, I noticed that as soon as I saw you today that, well-- Oh, dear, how do I explain this?” She put a hand to her cheek, eyebrows furrowed as she was deep in thought.

Therion let himself watch her then, finding that the afternoon sun hit her eyes perfectly, they looked like jewels.

“Oh!” She propped up suddenly, making Therion jolt a little, too. “Are you familiar with the term ‘muse’?”

“I think…? Like, whatever thing or person that inspires someone creative to create...?”

“Yes, exactly! And, well, it may sound crazy, and abrupt, but… I believe _you’re_ my muse!”

Therion let that sink in, his face not showing any sign of how the gears in his brain tried to make sense of that. He’s her muse. Muse, meaning...he inspired her? Was that what it was? But weren’t muses normally girls (goddesses? Maybe?), and weren’t they normally dating whichever writer or sculptor or painter? But this didn’t mean that she _liked_ him, right?

“On that regard,” Cordelia continued, bright smile on her face. “and I know that it’s absolutely selfish of me to ask, but please. May I ask you to come here, whenever you are free?”

Therion’s eyebrows shot up, his heart racing. “ _Whenever_?”

“Oh, of course, I don’t mean to take away your study time, or family time, or any such important things that you must devote yourself to.” 

Therion looked at her, tried to analyze this properly and failing. At the moment, his brain can only celebrate the fact that he’s sitting _right across_ Cordelia. Which he supposed meant, yes, he would _love_ to spend more time with her here. Besides, it meant he can get back to his routine of staying at Aeber’s. Nevermind being a _muse_ and what complications that meant.

“I apologize.” She said after a while, crestfallen. “That must have been much too forthcoming of me.”

“No, no, actually. Uhm,” Therion swallowed, a little more nervous than he was aware, especially when her bright blue eyes looked at him expectantly. “I’m free Tuesdays and Thursdays. I don’t have anything to do between classes.” He adds, “Sometimes classes end early on Fridays, so I can come then, too. If you’d like.”

Cordelia clasped her hands together, her eyes sparkling delight, and Therion knew he made the best decision he ever could. “That’s absolutely wonderful!”

***

Though it’s normally easy for him to tune out Professor Albright’s random fact barf, totally unrelated to their current lesson (he’s battier than the Carrion Caves when he’s like this, otherwise he’s a pretty decent professor), Therion couldn’t concentrate at all in today’s lesson. It’s been two days since he met with Cordelia again, found out her name and made an arrangement with her. They’d be meeting at Aeber’s Cafe after this class, and he’d been absolutely excited about it. For reasons he wasn’t really sure. (Maybe he missed Aeber’s ambiance and apple pie that badly.)

When the bell rang to signal that class was over, Therion was quick to gather his things and darted out of the room. He hurried outside the building, passing through the grassy park leading to the street where Aeber’s is located, wondering to himself how today will go.

“Mr. Therion!” He heard from behind him, his muscles stiffening from being caught off guard. He didn’t think he would encounter her anywhere outside Aeber’s. Not so soon, anyway. He stopped walking and turned to her, casually as he could, waiting for her to catch up to him.

“Hey.”

“Good afternoon.” Cordelia beamed, soft, puffy hair flowing in the breeze. “I’m so happy to see you, Mr. Therion.”

That made his heart skip. He hid the flush he can feel on his cheeks by looking away. “I don’t see what could make you so happy to see me. We agreed on meeting up. That’s just how it is.”

Cordelia giggled as they resumed walking towards the cafe, hoisting her bag further up her shoulder. “Well, I still can’t believe you agreed to accompany me. I’m _very_ excited to keep working. Just hanging out with you for a few hours last Tuesday already helped me get through so many scenes.”

Therion hummed in an interested tone. “That’s good. You better not slack off today, then.” He smirked, teasing.

“Oh, I don’t plan to!” She huffed, then brought out her arm as if flexing it. “I’ve got a _lot_ of writing to do!” She smiled at him.

And though it was only a slight curve at the edge of his lips, he smiled back.

***

“You didn’t clarify with her if these were _dates_?” Primrose’s jaw dropped.

“Well, am I even supposed to ask? How would I even?” Therion mixed the pancake batter much more frustratedly. Few steps away from them, Tressa eavesdropped while feeding Squirrel, her pet hamster. “Hey, so, because I’m your muse, does that mean this is a date? It isn’t logical!”

“Muse, huh.” Primrose leaned against the counter, folding her arms. She tried to remember where she heard that term from lately. “It’s been two weeks since then. What is it you two even do?”

“Well,” He stopped mixing for a while. “She just...types into her computer.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And I do my homework.”

“WHAT?!” This time it was Tressa who yelled, and he winced at the volume. Squirrel, startled, hurried into his dome to hide from the vocal tremors. “No cuddling? No holding hands? No feeding each other? No calling each other pet names? You’re so lame, Therion.”

“What did you say?” Therion put the bowl onto the counter. “Come here, you little--!”

Primrose raised her eyebrow, and asked before Therion could go around the kitchen counter to tackle Tressa. “So basically, you’ve been doing what you’ve been doing _before_ you stopped going to Aeber’s, but at a closer distance?”

He groans, scratching his head, trying to stay calm. “Pretty much.”

“And you’re fine with this?”

Therion let that question sink in. Why did she have to ask it like he wasn’t _supposed_ to be fine with this? He can see Cordelia again. He knows her name. Has her number. She likes his company. Wasn’t that more than he used to wish for, before he realized what he felt about her?

What he felt about her…

Wait, what _did_ he feel about her?

He didn’t stare at her as much anymore. But whenever he was around her he felt at peace. There would be times Cordelia asked questions of the most random topics, perhaps related to whatever she was typing about, he didn’t really think about the reason. He would answer however he could, to his knowledge, and Cordelia would sometimes laugh the sweetest laugh and somehow he’ll think everything’s fine.

So didn’t that mean that he _is_ fine with this?

Primrose took the bowl from the counter and patted his head. “Oh, my sweet, little brother.”

***

Therion stared at his message screen, still blank, recipient: _Cordelia_.

He’d been meaning to ask if they should meet up tomorrow, which is a Saturday. He didn’t have much studying to do over the weekend. He’d be free to just read a book beside her if they met up.

But…

Damn.

Since when was it so hard to send a simple ‘ _Wanna meet up tomorrow?_ ’ message?

***

Cordelia had been furiously typing on her laptop that Friday night when her phone dinged in a notification. She finished the scene she was working on with a flourish, topped with a very careful Ctrl + S, then turned her attention to her phone.

Her heart thumped heavily when she saw the notification: Message from Therion.

Startled by her own reaction, she pressed down her chest, as if it would help anyway in calming herself down. She swiped the screen to open the message.

 _Hey. I know I said sometimes I’m free Fridays,_  
_but I’m sorry I couldn’t meet up with you today._  
_If you aren’t busy tomorrow, we can meet up._

Cordelia felt her heart race with delight. Surely, she was happy that she can get some more writing done. What else could her delight mean?

She typed in her response.

 _How very kind of you, Mr. Therion._  
_Yes! I do believe I’m free lunch onwards, if that time is fine with you._  
_Shall we meet at Aeber’s?_

Cordelia clicked send and waited.

And waited. And waited. And waited.

Her heart started to drum nervous beats. She’d never felt this nervous except when a deadline was coming up, or she got an awful review of her work. And she’d never felt compelled to simply wait until a response came. What was happening to her?

All nervousness flushed out of her system when her phone dinged for a new notification. She quickly read the message.

 _Sure. :)_  
_I might be there earlier, maybe 10._  
_I wanna get out of the apartment soon as I can tom.  
_ _But no pressure. Arrive whenever you’re free._

The message made her heart swell in ways she never felt before. It felt brighter than receiving a perfect grade, warmer than Heathcote’s porridge when she’s sick, and higher than writing an exquisitely perfect line.

She couldn’t manage to reply. Instead, she jumped face first onto her bed, wiggled and squealed and let out how happy she was she can see Therion tomorrow.

***

“Well, look at you, little cutie. Dressing up for a date, are we?”

“It’s not a date. It’s… an arranged meet-up.”

“Ohohoho~ Sure, tell yourself that. Hey, Tress. When has Therion ever spent more than two minutes in the morning trying to find the right outfit?”

“Never, Prim. Never.”

“Would you two shut it!?”

Silence. (But really, the two girls were just holding back their laughter.)

Therion sighed, resigned. “Do you think the green top works better with the pants?”

Primrose walked into his room and squeezed his cheek. “You’re handsome no matter what you wear. But no, don’t wear green. Wear that grey shirt I got you for your birthday this year.”

“WHAT. But that’s got like, a super plunging neckline. You can see my ribs.”

“You rock it, so what’s the matter?” Tressa chimes. “You wear it to the supermarket.”

“I do _not_.”

***

“My Lady, why are you up so early? It’s only five in the morning.”

“Nothing, Heathcote.”

“Your room has turned into… quite an interesting bundle of clothes.”

“Heathcote… Heathcote, perhaps I do need help.”

“How may I be of assistance?”

“Please pick a dress for me, I am so tired.”

“Oh, my. Did you not get any sleep, my Lady?”

“No, no, no, I did. I did. Maybe a few hours. But please. I need to look my best.”

“Are you so excited for breakfast with your parents? It has been quite a while since they’ve returned from their overseas business. Truly, it does warm up an old man’s heart, to have the Lady be so--”

“Oh. Well, actually, I...”

***

Therion tried not to be too conscious of himself, the way he’s seated, where he’s seated, most of all, his clothes. No, he didn’t go for the grey plunging neckline shirt because that’s inappropriate for the situation. But he did take advice for the color, and chose a different grey shirt to wear, with his black pants, and his trusty purple jacket. It just came back from the washer’s after a solid week without it. It’s his favorite article of clothing, and holding it around himself helped him feel a little less insecure.

The cafe bell dinged, and he tried to keep calm. He’d been checking the door each time someone came in for the past five customers, and two of them gave him a strange look. He breathed deeply. There’s nothing different about this. It’s not a _date_. It’s just, what they usually do. Except on a Saturday. No big deal.

No big deal.

Except the next time the bell dinged as the cafe door opened, he turned around to see Cordelia, looking fine as she always did, hair well-made, in a white blazer and a sky blue dress that complimented her eyes. He’d never seen her in a dress before, as she normally went for long skirts that went down to her ankles and tops with frilled collars. This was different, and somehow it made him feel like _he_ was different, too.

 _Shit._ Maybe this _is_ a date.

“Good day, Mr. Therion. I hope I didn’t make you wait too long.”

***

“Look, I’m telling you. They’re dating.” One bartender whispered to the one at the cash register, inputting the right buttons for the customer’s drink. 

“Aww, man. Don’t break my heart.” The cash register guy smiled to the customer and gave her her receipt, and instructed her to wait at the other end of the counter for her drink. He then whispered to his buddy, as softly as he could. “You know I have a thing for Miss Cordelia.”

“Sorry, dude. But look at them.” He emphasized with a shrug of his shoulder. “Just. _Look at them._ ”

And the cash register guy did. And he’s never seen Miss Cordelia dolled up so prettily. And he’s never seen her eyes sparkle as she laughed at whatever she and the purple guy were discussing. His heart broke, but he knew if it was for her happiness, he could let it be.

“Wanna make a celebratory drink for ‘em?”

“Yeah. I think that would be nice.”

***

They’d been there for hours. This Saturday had been one of the freest Therion has ever felt. Although their time together started off awkward, both perhaps being too conscious of seeing each other on a weekend, they jumped into casual, comfortable conversations soon after. It started with her asking about why he wanted to leave his apartment so early, and he went off on a ramble about his two sister-like friends (not mentioning anything embarrassing him, of course), and ended off the rant with a warm smile she commented on.

“You must really love them.”

“I dunno. They _really_ get on my nerves sometimes.” Therion rolled his eyes, then watched a squirrel outside run past. He chuckled, remembering Tressa. “But yeah, I don’t hate them.”

She laughed softly at that, and it rang nicely in his ears. “What a wonderful friendship.”

They talked about her family, her parents, Heathcote, Therion’s separation from his parents and practically being raised with Primrose. He mentioned Darius, and Primrose’s wrath. She mentioned her desire for perfect grades, and her love of writing. It felt like they were catching up on little things, slowly building up to get a better understanding of each other, to see how they ended up as the person sitting in front of the other.

There were times they shared in the silence, too, when he would read his book and she would type away, her finger’s rhythm becoming his soothing background music. (Aside from the cafe’s own music.) And sometimes they would look up at the same time, and smile.

“Whoa, it’s getting late.” Therion said after he looked up from his book, and saw that the sunset’s orange hues started to stray in from the window. “Heathcote might come looking for you if you don’t get home soon.” He teased, smug smirk pulling his lips.

“Oh, stop it.” Cordelia pouted, then sighed. “Sometimes I do wish he would stop treating me like a child.”

“Oh, I get how that feels.” Therion sighed with her, remembering just how chaotic this morning was as both of his friends tried to dress him up. Then he looked Cordelia in the eye, serious as he said, “But I’m sure he has a lot of faith in you. From what you said, he seemed like a really dedicated guy. Don’t think he’d care so much if he didn’t _believe_ in you.”

That made Cordelia’s eyes a little glossy, her smile softening. He was about to apologize, thinking he must’ve said something to upset her, but she laughed. “Thank you, Mr. Therion. Somehow, hearing you say that truly lifts my spirits.”

“You sure?” Therion’s brows furrowed. “You look like you’re about to cry.”

“Out of happiness, yes.” Cordelia was about to wipe the edge of her eye with a finger, but before she could, Therion had stood up slightly, reached over the table, and wiped the tear off softly with his thumb, cupping her cheek in his palm.

“Well, a smile suits you much better.” Therion said, adoring how lovely she looked under the sunset’s light, her blue eyes staring up at him. Her cheek felt soft underneath his touch, that it was automatic for his thumb to brush across it, tender.

It took a bartender’s sudden coughing fit to bring him back to his senses. He quickly pulled his hand away, sitting back down with a thump to his buttocks.

“I mean, not that it’s bad to cry. Crying is good. It’s a good outlet for when you need to get the sads out. I always tell Primrose not to keep it all in. Tressa, too, especially when she’s always so happy. We can’t all be happy all the time. It’s impossible, and a little stressful. So you, well, yeah, it’s okay to cry. But uh, I hope I didn’t _make_ you cry. And--”

It was then Cordelia broke his ramble with a laugh. “Oh, Mr. Therion. Slow down, I won’t understand what you’re saying.”

He simply smiled at her, happy she let his little slip-up slide away, relieved she didn’t make any mention of it. 

They head out of the cafe, bags over their shoulders, the air kissing their cheeks cold. Therion noticed Cordelia wildly shivering for a moment, before she turned towards him. “Well, I must make my way home now, then.”

“Do you have to take the bus? The train?”

“The bus.”

“I can walk you to the stop.”

“Oh, no. Really, it’s alright. The sun’s still out, after all. I should be fine.”

“You sure?”

Cordelia laughed, covering her mouth with a hand, then putting it on her waist. “Don’t _you_ start treating me like a kid now. I’ll be alright.”

“Fine. But let me know when you get home.”

She nodded. “I will.”

He watched her walk away, heading the opposite direction of his apartment. It bugged him to see her with such a light jacket in this cold weather. Before she could get to the end of the street, he ran after her. “Cordelia!”

She turned to him, looking surprised. He didn’t realize it was the first time he said her name. “Mr. Therion…?”

“Here.” He took off his jacket, and let it fall on her shoulders. He tugged it snugly at her front, to secure it on her shoulders. “To keep you warm.”

“But--”  
  
“Bye! Be safe getting home!” He ran away, quick as he could, willing himself not to look back. Because if the adorable look of surprise on her face was anything to go by, he knew he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from kissing her right then and there.

***

 _I got home safely._  
_Thank you for today, for your time and your jacket.  
_ _I shall promptly return it next time we meet!_

 _Good to know you got home safe and sound._  
_And no big on the jacket.  
_ _It looked great on you._

Or at least, Therion wished he had enough confidence to send the message with the last line in. But he deleted it soon as he had typed it.

 _Good to know you got home safe and sound._  
_And no big on the jacket.  
_ _See you on Tues_

***

Cordelia dug her face into her pillow, and kicked her bed with her feet. Her day with Therion had been _wonderful_ , more than perfect. She was happy to find out more about him, and delighted that he was interested to know more about her, as well.

The moments when their eyes met and they would simply smile at each other were so good, it made her feel completely content.

But then, he touched her face, and she felt her entire body warm up to the touch.

And he even let her borrow his jacket.

(To the surprise of her parents when she came home.

“Oh my, Cordelia. Is that your boyfriend’s jacket?” Her mom mused, her jaw dropped in gleeful surprise.

“M-Mother! No, I do not-- I-- He’s not-- No boyfriend!” And fled to her room.)

What was the meaning to all that? She tried to think about it.

It’s easy to tell when she writes about it. She writes lines to set the base for a premise she already knows will happen. She gives thoughts to her characters, yes, and there are times they seem to act on their own, too. Still, she’s in control. She can delete a passage she didn’t like. Or modify a line to strike harder. 

But this is real life.

If she did something she would end up regretting, she couldn’t delete that moment from her life.

Which begged the question, should she admit to him these warm, fuzzy feelings she often felt around him? Or would that only lead to undesired tension?

She looked to the purple jacket thrown over her desk chair. 

***

“How was the date?” Primrose didn’t have to look at the door to know it was him. Her eyes were fixed on the television, munching on popcorn with Yusufa.

“It was _not_ a date, Prim.” He trudged to the kitchen, getting himself a glass of water.

“Sure, lover boy.”

“Where’s Tressa?”

“She’s having dinner with Leon.”

“Oh.”

Yusufa looked over at him, brows furrowed. “Uhm, Therion, might I ask you a question?”  
  
“Yeah, Yusufa?”

“Where’s your jacket?”

At this, Primrose quickly turned her head to see that, indeed, her friend did not have his jacket on, which only meant one thing. She got up on her feet and ran toward Therion. “Oh...my gods. You lent her your jacket!”

“I’m going to my room.” More like, he rushed to his room. The quickest he could.

“Therion, I’m so proud of you. That was such a good move! What a gentleman!”

Therion tried to shut his door, but Primrose had her hand on it, and wouldn’t let it close. “Go away, Prim.”

“Tell me. Tell me. Tell me. Pleeeaaase, tell me all about it. Come on. Let’s go out and talk _all_ about it.”

“But I just got home.”

“Yusufa, love, did you hear? Therion’s got a girlfriend. We gotta celebrate.”

“Wha-- She’s _not_ my girlfriend!”

“Okay, fine, she isn’t. _Yet_.”

***

Sunday lunch had been _terrible_. Not that the food Yusufa prepared was terrible, no. Her food was delicious as always, even more so when Primrose helps her with preparation. But having two couples interrogate the heck out of him about his “date” (which was not a date) the previous day was a lot more than he could handle. His sanity was on the point of breaking.

But thankfully, Yusufa made some apple strudel, and he was happy for a while.

Needing the break, he told his friends he’d like to take advantage of the nice weather and head out for a stroll at the park. True enough, once at the park, which was on the opposite direction of the campus, he felt relaxed. Being out in the breeze helped unwind the knots in his head, which have kept going and going the night before.

He kept thinking about Cordelia, what he’d done, his mind having gone in circles as he wondered and worried if it was a step inside her boundaries, and worst of all, if he creeped her out. It was just a jacket, right? It wasn’t a big deal, right?

But he touched her cheek without her consent. That must’ve been some crime, right?

Therion sighed heavily into his hands, running them over his face. Why was this difficult?

He liked Cordelia.

He liked her a _lot_ , and is that so bad?

Part of him said, yes. Because she wouldn’t like him back.

And another part of him said, no. It wouldn’t matter if she liked him back or not. He would still open himself up to her because she does the same to him. He’d suffer through her not liking him the same way if it meant they could keep meeting up like they did, on their designated table, guarded from prying eyes at Aeber’s.

(And a really, really tiny part of him said, almost unintelligible, “Remember how warm her cheek felt. Remember how she blushed when the jacket was around her arms. That means she likes me.”)

***

She liked him.

Soft smiles, sometimes spiteful-sometimes adorable jokes, emerald eyes that held emotions as deep as the ocean.

She liked him so much that it was always on the tip of her tongue, but she was too shy to admit it.

He liked her.

Bright smile, golden curls, sapphire eyes, endearing quirks.

He liked her so much.  
He liked her _so_ much.

***

Strangely enough, on the following Monday morning, he found her waiting in front of his first class building. She held a paper bag in her hands. He noticed his classmates pass by her, whispering, casting her looks that said ‘Hey, that girl’s pretty.’ and ‘We should go talk to her.’

Therion walked towards her with determined steps, making sure to scowl deeply at his classmates. It made them run straight to class than approach her.

“Hey,” He said, soon as he’s a few steps away from her. She looked up at him and he noticed her eyes lit up. His heart hammered like it always did around her. 

“Good morning, Mr. Therion!” She gleamed. She looked wonderful even in the morning.

“What’re you doing here? I don’t think you should have any class here.”

“Yes, but I wanted to return this.” She held the paperbag over to him, and he can see his purple jacket was inside it. “I remember you mentioning you have classes here in the morning. So…”

Therion reached out for it, but his hand paused before he could touch it. Should he take it back? Could he take this chance to tell her about what he’d been thinking?

“I had Heathcote wash and dry it yesterday. You don’t have to worry if it’s dirty or anything…” Cordelia followed up, perhaps wondering why he stopped himself from taking what’s his.

Therion pulled his hand back, and rubbed his neck instead. “No, it’s not that. I guess... I was sort of hoping you’d keep it.” _Shit. What am I saying?_ He looked away, embarrassed.

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly--” Cordelia shook her head, pushing the bag to his chest. “With the way my parents reacted last Saturday, oh, I couldn’t--”

Therion’s brows jolted up, curious. He remembers really well how Primrose reacted to the loss of his jacket, and his heart brimmed with glee if her parents reacted the same. “How did they react?”  
  
Cordelia took a tiny step backward, looking up at Therion, slightly spooked. “It’s embarrassing, really.”

He smirked, trying to stay strong for himself. “I’m up for a good story this morning.”

She looked up at him, a bit of fear in her blue eyes making him want to stop her, but she took a deep breath and spoke. “They thought that, well, they thought that it was my boyfriend’s jacket. Not that I have one! But they assumed that you must be. So...” She hid her face behind the paperbag. “I told you it was embarrassing!”

Therion tried to swallow against the lump in his throat, caused by how hard his heart leapt in his chest. His nerves piling up so high that it made his feet feel cold. “I don’t think that would be such a bad idea.”

Cordelia lowered the paperbag to look at Therion through the handles. “You mean--”

The bell chimed, signalling the start of classes, which surprised Therion and snapped him back to what he must be doing.

“Oh, shoot!”

She gasped. “You’re late!”

“I have to go.” 

Cordelia nodded rapidly.

He ran towards the building, shouting over his shoulder. “Can we meet at lunch? At Aeber’s?”

“Okay!”

***

Cordelia stood there, watching Therion’s retreating form as he went up the staircase to get to class. She clutched the paperbag to her chest. In the end, she didn’t get to return the jacket to Therion, but they brushed on a topic two nights ago she didn’t dare hope to come true. That there perhaps was no way he would return the feelings she had.

Did he just really…

Did he mean he could become…?

Her heart fluttered in her chest, and her fingertips itched to write a story.

***

Therion sat at his original usual place, the one before he ever even noticed Cordelia was a regular here just like him. He’d been there since class ended, which is a good hour and a half before lunch, but when he arrived at the cafe, Cordelia’s usual spot was taken, so he went back to his roots. He took his time sipping on an iced tea, thinking coffee wouldn’t do him any help now with how jittery he felt. 

The cafe door rang its bell as it opened. Therion looked up and there she stood, looking as pretty as she did this morning, although this time she wore the purple jacket. Actually wore it, arms through the sleeves and all. He was smitten, mouth agape as she walked closer to him with a skip to her step.

“Good day, Mr. Therion.”

“Hey,” Therion stood up as he cleared his throat. “It looks good on you.”

Cordelia smiled like she was fighting _not_ to smile and hopelessly failing. “Thanks. I quite like it. It’s my boyfriend’s jacket. I mean, if the owner didn’t mind me becoming his girlfriend…?”

Therion’s mouth dropped a tinge lower, and then he laughed, wholeheartedly, nerves slipping away. “You asked before I could again?”

Before Cordelia could ask what he meant by that, he wrapped his arms around her, doing what he realized he wished he could since the first time he caught her. It was so good being close to her. There was no way he’s making the wrong decision. “Hey, Cordelia?”  
  
“Yes, Mr. Therion?”

“I really like you.”

Cordelia pulled away, which made Therion’s heart stop for a moment, thinking she might reject him, but all she had for him was a face beaming with a full-on smile. “I really like you, too!” She propped up on her toes, and kissed his cheek.

He gazed at her as she landed back down on her heels. Bright smile, golden curls, sapphire eyes, endearing quirks. He loved her so very much.

Therion leaned down close enough for their lips to touch, the first of many kisses he would give her for the rest of their lives. They stopped when they noticed the rest of the cafe cheering for them, the two looking surprised when they turned to see all eyes were on them, completely unaware of how other regulars have been guessing what their relationship really had been.

That’s when Cordelia noticed how visible her usual table was from where they stood.

“Mr. Therion, might I ask a question?”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Have you ever been to Aeber’s before I invited you here?”

Therion smirked, and Cordelia could tell what it meant. She smiled, her heart blooming flowers of joy.

“So you’ve been my muse all along.”

“Maybe,” He teased, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “Guess we’ll never know.”


	2. Extras

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Extra bits (omake) in the same AU.

OMAKE

“I did it…” She whispered, jaw-dropped, eyes wide as a bowling ball, hands raised as if in surrender. It was a lovely Thursday afternoon, and the couple sat at their usual table. “Mr. Therion, I did it.”

He lifted his gaze to listen to her, putting a finger to where he stopped his reading. “Hmm? What was that?”

“I did it.” She squealed, her fingers dancing.

That’s when Therion gasped and stood up. “You did it…?”

“I did it!”

“You finished it!?”

“I did!”   
  
“Holy shit!”   
  
“AAAAAAA”

“Cordelia!” He smiled, wide and unguarded and precious. He took hold of her cheeks and squeezed them hard, making her lips pucker like a fish’s and he giggled like she was the most adorable thing in the world. “You genius!”

He held her face so close he could kiss her, and kiss her he did. A short, two-second brush of lips while he was on high with his glee for her success. They laughed and smiled, and to celebrate, they shared a slice of apple pie.

***

OMAKE 2

“The Princess and the Noble Thief,” Primrose read the cover title of their script. “Quite a nice title you thought of, Cordelia. Better than the Prince-Princess one.”

“Thank you, Miss Prim.” The writer smiled. “I wrote most of the script at Aeber’s Cafe, and since the cafe shares the same name with the god of thieves, I figured it would be a nice touch to the story. A nod to the muse, if you will.”

“Hmmm,” Primrose nodded. She’d read through the first few acts and she couldn’t help but feel the male protagonist felt really familiar.

“Oh, my.” Cordelia looked up at Primrose from her watch. “Look at the time. I really must get going.”

“Ayyye, got a date, Cordelia?” The drama club star smiled, teasingly jolting her brows up.

“Yes,” Cordelia took out an ever familiar purple jacket from her bag and Primrose’s jaw dropped in true surprise. It could’ve been any other purple jacket, yes. But Primrose wouldn’t ever forget how she stitched a small rose onto the purple jacket’s left pocket. The same rose right there on Cordelia’s jacket.

“Cordelia, you…”

“So sorry, Miss Prim. I have to run! Let’s finalize more details over email?”

\---

“Have a nice time with Cordelia?” Primrose wore a smug grin on her face. She felt so good.   
  
Therion stood at the door, completely shocked, fanning Primrose’s teasing fire. “How did you know her name?”

“Oh, I have my ways.”

Therion looked so shocked she started laughing.

“She’s part of the drama club, you dork. You should’ve just told me you’re dating our scriptwriter.”


End file.
